


Knit one purl two

by jadztone



Series: Sherlock Nanowrimo [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lots of Crying, Sherlock pining?, could be interpreted as a precursor to johnlockary, pregnancy hormones, they have a lot in common
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadztone/pseuds/jadztone
Summary: Mary is swamped with pregnancy hormones and wishing John would come home.  Sherlock pays a visit and they have an interesting discussion.





	Knit one purl two

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series of stories I wrote for Nanowrimo and posted on my tumbler page, sherlock-nanowrimo.tumblr.com. I was doing a story a day, generally leaving them open-ended if I wanted to add on to the story later in the month. The ones that I did add on to will be posted on AO3 as multiple chapters. They will all be posted as complete, with no expectation that I will ever revisit them. I haven't changed them from the way they were posted on tumblr, they have their issues, but I like to think of them as diamonds in the rough. The stories contain multiple crossovers with other fandoms, and multiple ships.

Mary sat curled up on the sofa, her laptop in front of her, watching the movements of the knitting instructor on the youtube video.  She paused it, then began mimicking the movements with the knitting needles she’d purchased earlier that day. It took several tries, but she eventually got the hang of it.  Once she’d gotten to the point that she could do it without it requiring her full attention, she turned on the telly and began to watch the news.  

A report about safety during trick or treating came on.  Mary supposed that with the new townhouse, there would probably be children out and about on Halloween.  She would have to buy some candy.  Maybe even dress up in a costume herself.  What should she be?  Probably a witch, that’s what she felt like.  She looked down at her knitting and realized that she’d made a few mistakes. Sighing, she unraveled it back to where she’d made the first error and started over from there.  She tried to think of brighter things, like daydreaming what costumes her child would wear as he or she grew up.  But that just made her think of who would be taking the little bumblebee from door to door.  She and John? Or just her?  Tears welled up in her eyes and she set the knitting down so she could grab a tissue and dab at them.

The doorbell rang. She stared at it in surprise.  She never got visitors.  Janine was no longer speaking to her, ever since she realized that both Sherlock and Mary had only been interested in her connection to Magnussen. It was unlikely to be David, he pretty much dropped off the face of the earth after the wedding.  Maybe it was someone from the clinic.  She stood up, and walked over to the door.  Peering through the peephole, she saw that it was Sherlock.  A smile came over her face.  She quickly unlatched the door and opened it.  “Sherlock!  How lovely to see you!  She glanced around slightly.  John wasn’t with him.  “Come in!”

Sherlock wordlessly came up the stairs and swept through the doorway.  Mary gestured to a coat rack and he took off his coat and scarf and hung them up neatly.  Mary went towards the kitchen.  “Would you like some tea?”

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, and then said, “I would love some.”

Mary beamed.  “Go make yourself at home in the den and I’ll be out shortly.”  Sherlock nodded and went off to the den.

Mary busied herself with getting the kettle on and arranging the tea tray with the pot, cups, cream and sugar.  She wondered if he was here about Magnussen.  Oh, that would be wonderful if he’d figured out a way to deal with that horrible man.  She hadn’t heard anything from Sherlock or John since they had their “client meeting” and it had been an agonizing few months.  Especially with not being able to share some of the baby milestones with John. She’d cried when she heard the heartbeat for the first time.  Cried during the ultrasound.  Cried when she felt the first kick.  She realized she was starting to cry again, now.  The kettle started to whine shrilly.  My sentiments exactly, she thought, as she once again wiped tears from her eyes.

Mary carefully carried the tea tray towards the den.  As she came through the door, she stopped abruptly when she saw that Sherlock had her knitting needles and was busily working away.  Composing herself, she set the tea tray down on the table.  “I didn’t know you could knit.”

Sherlock looked up.  “I only just learned.  Same as you.”  He pointed towards her laptop, which was still open to the youtube video on knitting.

Mary chuckled and sat down on the sofa next to him.  “I guess that’s one of the things we have in common.  We pick things up very quickly.”

Sherlock poured out a cup of tea and added cream and sugar in just the amounts she liked.  “Maybe that’s what attracted John.  Not the danger or adventure.  It was the ability to learn a card trick or build a model airplane in a jiffy.”  Sherlock handed her the tea cup, smiling.

Mary took the cup from him, and tried to smile in return.  The smile turned into a grimace and soon she was crying again.  She put the cup down and put her hands over her face. A sob escaped.  “I’m so sorry.  My hormones have been out of control.  I can’t stop crying.”

Sherlock glanced over at the mountain of tissues overflowing the small bin she kept under the table.  “Yes, I can see that.”  He watched for a few moments as she tried to calm down.  He scooted closer to her and awkwardly put his arm around her, patting her shoulder with his hand.  “There, there, Mary.  It will be okay.”

The tears turned to giggles as she couldn’t help but be amused by his attempt to comfort her.  “Oh, Sherlock, thank you so much for coming. I’ve been very lonely.  The only visitor I’ve had is Mycroft.”

Sherlock dropped his arm and stared at her.  “Mycroft? Why would he come to see you?”

She chuckled.  “Well, you can imagine his curiosity about my background.  He was very put out that he hadn’t been alerted to it at all in the time that I’ve been with John.  I think he was more upset than John.”

Sherlock smirked.  “Yes, he prides himself on knowing everything about everything.  And vetting anyone and everyone who comes into regular contact with me.  The fact that I’d become close friends with an assassin practically sent him into apoplexy.”  Mary laughed shakily.  Sherlock narrowed his eyes.  “Mycroft didn’t behave badly towards you, did he?”

Mary smiled.  “He tried to bully me into giving him details on how I was able to keep it a secret that even his people didn’t have a clue. But I’m used to interrogations. He left quite unsatisfied.”

Sherlock chuckled.  “That’s my girl.”  He put his arm around her again and squeezed her to him in a jovial half hug.  She laughed as well, but then once again the laugh turned into crying.  She turned towards Sherlock and buried her face into his shoulder.  He tentatively put his hand on her head and stroked her hair.  “What set you off, this time?”

She could tell he was trying not to sound impatient with her, and it was sweet.  She straightened and took a deep breath and picked up her tea. “Sorry again. It was…it was your compliment and friendly gesture.  It’s just…I’ve been starving for affection.  Intimacy.”  She took a sip of her tea, and leaned back.  “I spent years and years of my life closing myself off from other people. Concentrating solely on my work. Intimacy was not possible for someone with so many secrets.  Then one day I couldn’t take it any more.  I craved companionship.  I could no longer deny myself someone to share things with.  I walked away from my work, buried my secrets, and set out to start my life over again.  Hopefully this time with someone in it.”

Sherlock gave her a strange look.  “That’s really why you gave up that life?  You wanted love?”

Mary chuckled.  “I guess that’s what you and I don’t have in common.  You’ve done well at denying that part of yourself that might want to be held, touched, in order to focus more clearly on your work.  I wasn’t so successful.”

Sherlock looked away, his expression pensive.  “You give me more credit than I deserve.”

She looked sharply at him. “What do you mean?

Sherlock pursed his lips together.  “I was very good at denying myself until John came along.”  He glanced over at her.  “I know what you’re thinking.  Many people assume I’m gay and that I’m in love with John.  I’m not gay.  But I do love and cherish his friendship.  I never knew real companionship until we lived together at 221B. I found that I thrived from it.  I felt much happier than I had been alone. I finally realized the whole appeal of couplehood.  I sometimes wondered what it would be like if I was sharing the space with a woman.” He glanced over at Mary, looking uncomfortable that he’d confessed all this.

Mary smiled warmly.  “You mean someone like Janine maybe?”  

He shook his head.  “No.  Janine is very lively and generous, but also of…average intelligence.”

Mary tilted her head. “Molly, then?”

Sherlock looked up to the ceiling.  “Molly is loyal, insightful, dependable, and she is very intelligent.  But…not enough.”

Mary nodded knowingly. “So someone like The Woman.”  She said the two words with a theatrical flourish.

Sherlock gave her a conceding look.  “Yes, perhaps.  Maybe not as…prone to wickedness.”

Mary burst out laughing. “I understand what you mean.  I’ve seen her website.”  She winked at him.  “Well, that’s a tall order, Sherlock.  Someone close to your level of intellect, but not prone to misbehaving. I’ll keep my eyes open.”  Sherlock opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He was clearly rattled by how much he had just shared with her.  He picked up his tea cup and sipped.  She did the same.

They sat companionably for a few minutes.  Then she gave him a quizzical look.  “You never did tell me why you’re here.  Did you…figure something out?”  She took a shaky breath.

Sherlock shook his head. “No, I’m still working on it.  The truth was…I missed you.”

She blinked at him.  “You missed me?”

He shifted on the sofa to face her more.  “We had a lot of fun planning the wedding, and I got to know you fairly well.  Or thought I did.  After the two of you married and went off on your honeymoon, 221B felt more empty than ever before.  I thought at first I was just missing John.  But then after your secrets were discovered, he moved back in with me.  And I realized there was still something missing.  You.”

Mary’s face melted into a smile.  “I have missed you, too.”

Sherlock took a deep breath. “There have been very few people who accept my eccentricities unconditionally.  You seemed to actually enjoy my presence rather than be annoyed by it. Part of me thought it was just because you cared for me only as an extension of John.  But if that were the case, some of his previous girlfriends might have shown the same affection.  They all despised and resented me.  You were different, and I realized that…that our friendship didn’t necessarily rely on John for us to feel a connection.”

Mary put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze.  “It doesn’t. I do quite enjoy being your friend, Sherlock.”

He stared thoughtfully at her hand on his.  Then he slowly put his other hand over top hers.  “And I quite enjoy being your friend as well.”  He looked up at her, into her eyes, his gaze steady.

After a moment, Mary’s eyes widened.  “Sherlock, what are you trying to tell me?”

Sherlock’s eyes shuttered. He pulled his hand away and stood up. He began to pace the room.  “I’m sorry, Mary.  I probably shouldn’t have come.  I’ve just been quite fed up with John and his refusal to reconcile with you. He doesn’t appreciate you, Mary, what the two of you have together.  How special and rare that is.  I…” His jaw clenched.

Mary got to her feet on shaking legs.  “Oh Sherlock. I don’t know what to say.  To see this level of empathy from you… it’s extraordinary.”

“It’s all John’s fault. He made me understand what companionship is.  And then when you came along, watching the two of you, I saw what love could be.”  

Mary walked up to him and put her arms around him, hugging him.  “You’ll find that love, Sherlock.  I know you will.  And she’ll be an extremely lucky woman.”  She pulled away slightly and looked up at him.  The way he was gazing down at her made her draw in her breath and pull away further, her hands dropping.  “You better go, Sherlock.  With the way I’ve been feeling lately, I don’t know if being alone with you is a good idea. I still have hope that John will come back to me.”  She stepped back and angled towards the door.  

Sherlock paused a moment, then nodded and went out into the hallway.  He gathered up his coat and scarf and put them on.  As he was set to walk out the door, Mary suddenly called out to him.  “Sherlock!” He turned around.  She went up to him, her expression suspicious.  “Was this some sort of test?”

He frowned.  “What do you mean?”

“Was all that a test to see if I’m still loyal to John?”

He blinked at her and then smiled reluctantly.  “I should be hurt by that, but oddly enough I’m impressed.   You well know my sneaky ways.  But that’s just it, I wouldn’t try it with you.  The whole reason I kept my relationship with Janine a secret is because you would have seen through it immediately.”

Her gaze was still narrowed. “You could have been counting on my hormones clouding my judgment.”  Her expression softened.  “I won’t mind, you know.  I think it’s sweet how protective you are of John.”

He stared at her a moment, then looked thoughtfully out at the night air.  When he looked back at her, his expression was his usual unreadable one.  “You got me, Mary.  I was testing you.  You really do know me well.  On the bright side, you passed with flying colors.  No more doubts about the two of you.  Goodnight, Mary.”  He smiled thinly and then turned and walked down the street.  

Mary watched him go, stunned.  She leaned heavily against the door frame, her hand clutching the door knob.  What he’d told her just now…that had been the lie.


End file.
